


Hey Wolf, Just See There's No Fear

by kalika_999



Series: Jack and Brock's misadventures [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Humor, Awkward Boners, Awkwardness, Breaking and Entering, Bullying, Coming In Pants, Disabled Character, Fluff, Grinding, HYDRA Husbands, M/M, Minor Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rutting, Scent Marking, Scenting, Swearing, Vague Ghost Hunting, Werewolf Jack, Werewolves, awkward everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:55:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8441197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/pseuds/kalika_999
Summary: Brock has a problem at school, it goes by the name Jack Rollins.





	1. Chapter 1

Okay so there’s this new kid. His name was Jack, in Brock’s English class. He’s also in his Biology class, hell he’s even in his Math class, shit come to think of it he’s in almost every class he’s in except for maybe a couple that he pretty much sleeps through. 

Anyway, he’s pretty sure he goes out of his way to be an asshole to him and usually Brock’s okay with that, he can deal with assholes, he tends to be one of those himself..most of the time, but this guy, this guy seems to have a chip on his shoulder for just him in general. 

Every time Brock wants to take a shot back the guy laughs at him. Sure he might be taller than him, maybe he’s just slightly bigger than him too but it doesn’t matter, he’ll make a go at it and sort the rest of the crap out later but the guy just shakes his head and walks off like an asshole. 

Maybe if he wasn’t cute, yeah he’ll admit it. He thought the guy was pretty cute the day he first saw him sitting back against his chair and chewing on a toothpick like he was some sort of veteran badass with his stupid cute slick dark hair and green eyes, stubble oh and that worn and faded scar at the side of his face. He didn’t realize he was maybe drooling a little when those eyes glanced over and met his. He was sure there was a look of surprise and _something_ else but then the guy was snorting like Brock shouldn’t be looking his way and he turns away from him and cracks open one of his books looking a little insulted.

That just started it all. They kept noticing each others presence in various other classes and Brock tried his best not to gripe about it and check out the way his butt looked in tight blue jeans. That was another annoying thing, the guy could wear a thick turtleneck sweater that was swallowing him whole and he still looked gorgeous, that wasn’t fucking fair at all. There should have been a law over that.

A few days later the subtle bullying started, a casual nudge of books off his table, his seat getting stolen, hard shoulders or elbows colliding into his side. He tried to ignore it because Fury told him to avoid getting suspended again for starting a fight and as much as high school was boring, he liked it, especially with the friends he had there. 

Brock hoped his crush would shrink down to nothing in the meantime but instead it only went the opposite direction much to his annoyance.

 

“Stark, you gotta rig me up some sort of locker bomb or somethin’ where the guy opens it up and he gets a face full of glitter or some shit. I’m beggin’ ya.”

Tony grinned wide over the lunch room table, holding his hands up innocently, “Can’t do it my friend, Fury told the faculty I’m not allowed to handle combustibles without very strict and controlled supervision after the last time. He also said if I rig anything _close_ to a bomb he’ll kick me in the ass and off school property. I’m pretty sure it’s illegal but I wouldn’t hold it past him.”

Brock groaned, dropping his face against his arms. A second later he peeked over to look at the muscular brunette beside him, “Buck?”

Bucky shook his head, finishing off his sandwich, “He’s nice to me, I’m not getting in the middle of it.”

“Thanks for betraying your best friend.”

His friend paused, “You’re not my best friend, Steve is.”

A smile curled at Brock’s lip knowing he was only joking, “Stevie ain’t your best friend, he’s the one you f- ”

“Hey!” The blond interrupted with a glare of his eyes.

 

It’s a week later when he’s standing in the middle of his bedroom, startled and surprised to see Jack sitting in his desk chair casual and comfortable with his arms draped over the rests.

Brock’s casually taking inventory of his place, nothing’s really moved around. His video games are still in their neat little stacks, his consoles are in order. All of his model figures for various video games are still sitting there with guns locked on whatever, monsters still looking ugly as fuck, even his computer isn’t on. His window wasn’t open but he’s not exactly sure how else Jack would even get in unless the guy knows how to pick locks or something of that nature. He’s not even sure he should still be standing there like an idiot or running because Jack hasn’t really expressed that he’s a friendly guy, at least towards him, and this could really get kind of serial killerish. He’s seen way too many horror movies to decide otherwise. 

All his bravado left two minutes ago even though he’s mildly aware that there’s a bat by the door he could use as a weapon he supposes but instead of making himself available to it, he folds his arms over his chest in defense and looks at him warily.

“Did I do something really offensive to you that you had to break into my house or somethin’?”

Jack rolled his eyes, frowning a little and he shifts a little as his legs stretch out in black tight jeans and Brock’s trying his best not to look at his thighs or focus on where his fly is. 

“I came to apologize.” He paused, looking anywhere but at him. 

His shoulders helplessly went up then dropped down, a palm going up in a shrugging gesture like he had no idea how to do something like that and that was amazingly clear at that moment.

“I know I’ve been an asshole to you since we met, or well lack thereof meeting.”

Brock was still surprised this was what he came here to do but he couldn’t help the mocking snort slip out of him, “Yeah no shit. Ya kind of signed me off before I could even open my trap anyway.”

Jack’s quiet. Helplessly looking at his hands like he’s desperately trying to figure out exactly what to say and he still can’t say it. He huffs a short sound of air and rests his elbows onto his thighs while Brock sits on his bed finally 100% sure this isn’t some ruse to drop his guard.

“So..why are you telling me this anyway?” Because sure it’s nice to do it quietly and here..and _HERE_ in his bedroom where he’s laid in bed having way too many embarrassing fantasies about Jack hate fucking him into oblivion. 

Jack abruptly quirks a brow his way at that exact moment and suddenly Brock’s afraid the guy’s a mind reader. _Shit._ He starts thinking about his Nonna’s old chatty biddy friends dancing around in old lady bikini’s during the family trip to Italy last summer just in case and Jack blinks a little and looks back at his hands again while Brock silently exhales. 

Staring at the clock, it’s been at least five minutes since he’s asked Jack what’s up and the guy’s still mulling around like apologizing is worse than torture, a hand scrubbing over his face and all Brock does is press his lips together comically and widen his eyes because this isn’t just awkward, it’s really weird and if the guy’s about to admit he’s mean because he has a troubled family life or some dramatic shit Brock’s not sure he’s really mentally prepped for that. 

His parents will be home soon from work anyway and the last thing he wants is for the guy to be here when they show up and his mother extending a dinner invitation to him because saying yeah this dude broke into my house is going to sound awesome so he’ll have to lie and say they're friends and he really doesn’t want to sit through dinner with someone he’s not even friends with.

Brock clapped his hands together, sitting up straighter and close to standing up, “Well ain’t this been a great chat. You’re totally forgiven and now ya gotta get the hell out because if my parents sho- ”

His mouth closed when Jack snapped his eyes at him in irritation and Brock loudly sighed, scooting his butt across the bed and laying out against his pillow. If he was going to be stuck waiting for Jack to talk he might as well get comfortable, maybe have a nap.

Resting his hands on his chest he looked over, “No offense but you’re terrible at this.”

Jack frowned harder glaring at him, “I’m _trying_. I never really had to do this before and I’m sorting out a lot of issues in my head.”

Brock knew it, he knew this guy was going to break down like an afternoon special and hope Brock held him and told him life would get better like he’s some sort of therapist or some shit. He was so fucked.

“You don’t have to try. You did your best and that’s all you can do, as weird and awkward as this is. I’m here forgivin’ ya anyway and you can feel better about yourself.” He turned his head to look at him again, “Trust me, ain’t gotta think of some long deep message for me. I ain’t picky.”

Brock was pretty sure if Jack stared any harder at his floor he would burn a hole through it.

“I have to though!” Jack ground out rubbing his palms hard against his jeans, “I treated you badly and you didn’t deserve it.”

“Did someone tell you I was cryin’ in the bathroom or somethin’?”

Jack gave him a bewildered look and Brock smirked a little, “If they did they were fuckin’ with ya.”

“Hey, I’m sorry I shoved your books off the table or bumped into you on purpose or stole your seat..”

“It’s fine, ain’t no sk- ”

“..Or stole your sandwich that one time.”

“ -That was you?!”

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Jack cringed a little, “I really enjoyed it, if it makes you feel any better.”

Brock gave him a deadpan look, “It don’t. I blamed my friend for swipin’ it. Ignored ‘im for the whole damn day.”

Looking at him carefully, Jack clasped and unclasped his hands nervously before he moved them just to grip the armrests, “Well then I’m really really sorry.”

Waving it off casually, Brock rested his foot against his other foot casually even though inside he was still trying to understand what the hell was going on and if he was in some sort of bizarro world.

“Oh, and sorry about breaking into your house too.”

“No big deal, as long as nothin’s broken. Apology accepted.”

Jack pulled himself up out of Brock’s chair and fixed a small careful smile across his face, “Well, I’ll get out of your hair. Thanks for listening and..not calling the cops. See you at school.”

Brock tucked his hands behind his head and gave Jack a nod trying his best to be as casual as he possibly could. He watched him walk out of his room and heard his footsteps heading down the stairs before his front door opened and he was gone. 

He counted down from thirty before he got out of bed and looked outside, immediately calling Bucky, “So you want a real fucked up story?”

 

The next day Brock’s still on eggshells the first time he sees Jack at school by their lockers and he’s lost in some deep conversation with Wanda from their Home Economics class intently watching her hands while she’s explaining something with great detail. 

He could barely sleep last night thinking about the pros and cons about why Jack really had to show up and apologize. Sure it seemed like pulling teeth for him in a way but he did it and it sure seemed sincere but it was random and completely out of the blue. Didn’t help he was fantasizing about the guy breaking in while he was sleeping because that would be ridiculously hot too. Either way, it still felt like a trap.

“I heard his family just moved here and they’re going through a rough time. I don’t think it’s a trap," Bucky muttered while they trudged through the hallway, loudly chewing on a red thing of licorice while Steve quietly gripped the straps of his backpack at Bucky’s other side. “I think because he’s new he just got off on the wrong foot with you. You kinda look like a dick.”

Brock shot Bucky a look only to catch Rogers nodding in agreement. Some friends he had. Okay so maybe he looked a little put off most of the time, that wasn’t his problem. It just happened that way and it worked well for him so people stayed off his ass about shit. 

He still wasn’t sold on the whole idea as English wound down, his eyes boring into the back of Jack’s skull and he barely took in any of the lesson really trying his hardest to figure him out. The guy had actually smiled at him when their eyes met at the start of class and then of course Brock walked straight into Thor. He bounced off magnificent pecs and into one of the tables like an idiot. Thor quickly helped him up and blamed himself for not paying attention so he mostly got away from looking like a fool but that was the one and only time Jack looked his way, sitting himself beside Johnson who Brock found annoying as all hell even though they seemed to hit it off for some damn weird reason.

As time would have it, the minute he relaxed, something went off like a switch in Jack and while Brock was choosing between the roast beef or the turkey sandwich at the cafeteria he heard an irritated growl rise from somewhere behind him in the line. There was a shuffle of rapid movement before a leather jacket clad arm shot out, picked up one of the sandwiches packages and it was slammed down on his tray, “It’s a fucking sandwich Rumlow.”

Brock turned his head, mouth agape as his eyes followed Jack back to his spot in the line though some people decided feeding themselves wasn’t that important and ditched the line while people around the new guy suddenly concluded to give him a wider berth. 

Brock sat himself down at his usual seat, friends already there and that ticklish feeling that he was being watched crept up even though the cafeteria was noisy and way too crowded. He looked by the stairway of the school theater just to see eyes glaring at him while they were in a conversation with some other people. 

Sighing loudly, Brock turned back to the table, “He just snapped at me for takin’ too long to pick a goddamn sandwich. This is goin’ to be my whole high school life now ain’t it? New guy hates me, says sorry then hates me again. Seriously, does he have some disorder I’m missin’?” 

Bucky shrugged, eyeing his pudding cup as he attempted to scrape out the last remnants of it from the bottom, “He’s pretty cool around me, we made plans to go to that new arcade that opened up, you’re more than welcome to join us if you want.”

Stealing another glance towards where Jack was, he wasn’t sure what to think and it would all be easier if he wasn’t so hot interesting, “Maybe.”

After lunch he was still waiting for another bipolar attack from Jack during their next class though he had mostly all but forgotten about it while chewing up his pencil so badly it broke in half trying to understand the work before him. A shadow loomed over him and there were a couple of pencils held out. He looked up only to see Jack towering over the table with a stoic face and Brock took them with an awkward deer in headlights look.

“Uh, thanks.”

“Quit chewing on them, you’re gonna get lead poisoning.”

He only stared at him dumbfounded and Jack pressed his lips together, giving a little nod and moved to go sit back in his chair only to pause and turn around again, “And..you forgot to carry the two, that’s why you’re so lost in why you can’t get the right answer.”

“Oh.” Brock replies unintelligibly and Jack flashes him the briefest of smiles before he finally did go sit down.

Humanities class was a whole entire circle jerk of staring at Jack Rollins’ head until he turned around and then Brock was staring at the projection screen and chewing the end of his pen with a hand pressed into his cheek in boredom. 

He made a little game of it, relieve some of the tension he was feeling giving himself points the faster Rollins would actually turn around to look and Brock got a little window of pleasure over the fact that he seemed to have been getting more and more irritated because he never actually _caught_ him looking.

He expected asshole Jack in the hallways when he stopped him by his locker to change books, instead Jack held up a book covered up by a paper bag, “You might like this. I don’t know..later.” 

Brock watched Jack run off to his next class and he waited a few seconds after that to actually pull the thin book out, an anthology of stories written by famous comic book writers featuring some well known main characters from various shooter games he played religiously.

This whole thing, this whole ‘ _I’m sorry I messed with you, you didn’t deserve it_ ’ bullshit was getting really weird and a little creepy.

It was also adorable and sweet when Jack didn’t snap at him. 

Brock also came to the realization that this little crush he had on the guy was definitely not just some passing thing. 

He was so screwed.

 

Everything keeps carrying on like that for the rest of the week and the next. Brock spends most of his weekend alone, in his bedroom with the curtains shut and the door locked. He passes on going to see Jack with Bucky because he’s not sure how it will go and it’s all the guys fault anyway because he keeps giving off weird and odd signals like they should hang out but he’s awkward about it but then he’s snapping at him for walking too slow to his locker or scratching his nose the wrong way. 

He just doesn’t get it.

It just gets better on Tuesday when he accidentally knocks over Ward’s coke and the guy has a bitch fit about it like he expects Brock to grovel for forgiveness when all he does is stare at him like the baby he is. When Ward realizes it he instantly wants to fight about it and Brock’s totally fine with kicking his ass especially when Pierce joins in with his stupid glee club looking pompous ass sweater he always wears, he can take them both on at the same time. 

They’re shouting words one minute then suddenly Jack’s coming out of nowhere and punches Ward so hard buddy starts _crying_ and the second Pierce sees that he runs for the hills. It’s pretty funny and everyone’s laughing until Jack turns on _him_ and slams his back into the lockers, face inches from his and boy this really shouldn’t be something he’s thought about. He can hear everyone taking off and he’s internally rolling his eyes in an appreciative thank you when Jack’s leaning in way too close and he’s pretty sure the dude’s _smelling_ the side of his neck and the creep factor just went up but then so is something else Brock doesn’t wanna mention on his own body.

He’s a little mortified and he’s not sure Rollins picked up on it, wedging his backpack between them just for good measure. 

Jack rests his hands at either side of Brock’s head and smiles, slow and dangerous, Brock’s fighting to not blurt out anything related to telling him how ready his body is right now for _anything_ Rollins has in mind feeling hot breath dance along his ear.

“I wanna eat you alive Rumlow.”

Okay, he takes that other comment back, creep factor just went up 1000% now.

“..The fuck?”

That snaps Rollins out of whatever drunk murderer fantasy he’s lost himself in and pulls himself off, eyes looking apologetic and he thinks the guy wants to open his mouth to even say sorry but suddenly thinks better of it and leaves. He literally takes off out the doors and off school property and never comes back for the whole day.

 

Brock was only gone for maybe twenty seconds. _Twenty_. He came back to his bedroom to see his window wide open and Jack sitting at it looking unsure of himself.

At least this time Brock wasn’t afraid he was going to be murdered.

“Okay, seriously? I ain’t in the know how of how exactly you got into people’s houses before but breakin’ and enterin’ ain’t normal. You could just knock or use a phone to call? If you weren’t actin’ like you needed to be on meds I’d have given ya my number by now.” He stared at the tree outside his window figuring that was probably how he got in, giving his head a shake, “You’re fuckin’ creepy. There, I said it.”

Jack glanced at him like he expected that and watched Brock park himself down on his bed with his half eaten bag of chips not picking up his game controller yet. He tilted his head at him, motioning to come over. 

He watched him look like he was thinking about the pros and cons of it before moving across the room and seating himself at the bottom corner still looking awkward and nervous, “Sorry. Uh, about the smelling and eating thing. I’m weird, I know.”

Brock refused to say yeah no shit, just to be nice because he did want to get to know Jack and maybe some other things but this was all just really from the twilight zone. 

“It’s fine.”

He eats a chip just to be casual and sits painfully still, mainly because he’s trying to let Jack do what’s comfortable for him. 

“I..I talked to your friend with the one arm? Bucky Barnes? He said to tell you honestly what I’m thinking. I accidentally did and I really didn’t mean to say that out loud I’m just really bad at flirting and- ”

Brock shot a hand up, “Wait a minute. You talked about me to Bucky? And _that_ was flirting to you? That definitely wasn’t flirting, that was grounds for a restrainin’ order buddy. What’s _wrong_ with you?”

Okay so his heart was beating a million times a minute and he wanted to grab Jack’s face and make out with him but he was also irritated this was some crush thing and he could’ve just outright told him that. He was also mad at Bucky now because he knew. What the hell.

When he looked back to see what Jack’s doing, the guy looks more uncomfortable than the beginning of the conversation, squirming a little with a screwed up look on his face like he regrets even showing up. It’s a little endearing to Brock, especially when there’s a color of red collecting at the tips of his ears. 

Brock knows he could easily give in and make this all easier for him by flirting back or asking him if he wanted to sit with him for lunch tomorrow but he really threw him for a loop and he figured he was owed some sort of reparation for it. 

No one could say Rumlow was a complete asshole though, extending a sort of olive branch by holding out his bag of chips for him. He watched Jack glance at him timidly before tugged a hand free from his other and took one like he was putting all his effort into the action. His shoulders relaxed a little bit as he ate it and Brock took another for himself, watching some birds outside his window.

“I was..wondering if you wanted to. I don’t know, eat with me..at lunch time tomorrow.”

It sounded like Jack was trying to force it out of himself, eyes glaring at the ground and if he didn’t already admit to flirting, Brock would have assumed he was acting on some practical joke he was dared to do. The soft blush along Jack’s ears are redder now and as painfully socially stunted as Rollins is, Brock feels insanely flattered, a grin spreading across his face. 

“Only if you stop terrorizin’ me with your snappy little temper tantrums.”

Jack sits up straighter, opening his mouth to snap something back before shutting it closed again with a huff, brows furrowing together as he’s seemingly trying to recall how many times he’s actually done that. 

Watching him full on now, Brock reaches over towards him and brushes two fingers lightly across his forehead, smoothing them out for him and Jack lets out a small exasperated noise as he relaxes his body with a small curl of a smile. 

“Deal.”

Brock catches green eyes peeking over at him and suddenly he’s realizing he hasn’t moved his hand away, instantly snapping it back to his lap again. A wider smile spreads across Jack’s face and instantly Brock feels himself falling head over heels like an idiot over it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brock's life is weirder now that Jack's in the center of it, not that he minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was horribly affected by American Money by Børns, I can't help myself.

Since that day they have lunch. They actually have a lot of lunches together. When that seems to be going great and the random snappy Jack backs off about 90% of the time, Brock makes a bold move and grabs his sleeve one morning during first period redirecting Jack to the back table where he likes to sit instead of the front where Jack’s usually at. Johnson looks back only to frown and Brock knows he’s got a look on his face that’s way too smug but he’s in a way too pleased mood to care. Jack looks puzzled for a second before he realizes what Brock’s alluding to with their new friendship and he parks himself down in the empty seat beside him with that soft pink across his face again. 

It’s like torture for Brock, staring at that face every break and every lunch, now every class they have together when one of his friends aren’t sitting with him. It’s a wonder he hasn’t crawled into Jack’s lap and made out with him like a dopey idiot. They definitely like each other but Jack never asks for a date or tries to touch him, it just seems like he’s happy to be _around_ him and for some weird reason Brock really likes that. Sure when he’s at home fantasizing about what it _could_ be, Brock gets that warmth in his stomach and he’s distracted elsewhere but he likes the way he is around him, he really does.

He sees that Jack eventually allows himself not to be nervous or jittery and actually starts sitting around with Brock’s friends who all welcome him with smiles and waves. He’s pretty proud of his group, well except maybe Tony who immediately tells Jack about the glitter bomb Brock wanted to rig in his locker the first week they met. 

Jack’s eyes had widened and everyone was suddenly holding their breath in horror then without any warning, straight from left field he was laughing like he was told the greatest joke in the world. Tony’s laughing too and slapping Jack’s shoulder like they’re sharing a moment and it’s a little unnerving considering but slowly everyone eases up and it’s all back to normal again.

It happens the next day in Home Economics class and things change a little. At first it just consists of reviewing work from last week and watching a demonstration about baking cupcakes even though all he can do is stare at Jack wondering what he really thought about finding out he wanted to glitter bomb him early on. He’s still on the quiet side and it makes Brock a little paranoid, he doesn’t want Jack resenting him over something so dumb.

They’re partnered together which is good because Jack’s the brains of this operation. He can’t even crack an egg with one hand, he was trying to and only watched them implode in his fist. Bucky’s too busy laughing at him to help him out and Jack only smiles adorably at him and does it like he’s a fucking expert at egg cracking. He’s horrible at measuring too, which is why Jack stops him from ‘eyeballing it’ and does it himself. There’s no irritation or annoyance to it, he just does it and he’s still kinda smiling too so he supposes he’s not choked up about the locker thing. 

The one thing he can do is ask for a color to dye their royal icing so he goes over to do that and get it as midnight blue as he can. They sit closer than usual when they’re back at their table and waiting for the oven timer to go off and that’s when Jack starts to just look at him. 

Brock watches as he takes in a deep breath and lingers over it for a few seconds before he presses in closer and Brock is frozen in his chair. He never has an idea of what exactly Jack’s doing so he just sits there and lets him do this thing. He can hear a soft rumbling sound beside him that’s apparently coming from Rollins’ chest and a hand’s tugging him closer and keeping him put while his nose nudges against the side of his neck.

“You smell good..” Jack let’s out, low and throaty not shy to take in his scent while Brock was attempting not to squirm at the sensation of his nose dragging into skin. “Like sugar and vanilla and _chocolate_.” 

“Because we were just mixing that shit together ya dingdong.” He tried his damnedest to sound casual, maybe even normal but he could hear the warble way his voice went the second he opened his mouth.

“Right,” Jack mumbles out, his lips now joining in, he doesn’t at all sound like he gives a crap about what was just pointed out. He just focuses on sniffing him. A blush breaks out across Brock’s cheeks because it’s a little awkward to have his friend’s face buried into the side of his neck in the middle of class though if someone asked if he wanted Jack to stop, he really didn’t want him to but like keyword is _friend_ right now which makes this more like some weird personal space issue instead of some clingy boyfriend issue.

Brock has to shoot his hand out and bring his jacket over his lap because he’s had way too many wet dreams since that first time Jack’s done this and right now is not helping at all, oh hell no it is not. 

“There’s something on your..” Jack mumbles out and before Brock can really absorb what he’s trying to say he feels a tongue licking across his jaw, wet and hot and so completely unexpected that Brock gasps out in surprise even though he was sure no one heard him through all the class chatter.

“Huh..wha?” He was so eloquent. 

“Frosting,” Jack nuzzles the spot before he pulls away completely, “It was on your jaw.”

..Because Brock didn’t need another fantasy in his head like Jack licking icing off the entirety of his body.

An alarm starts going off on Brock’s phone and Jack pulls himself out of his seat, “Cupcakes are done.”

Narrowing his eyes, Brock watches Jack move around like he didn’t just assault someone while he’s sitting there keeping a jacket over his lap and trying to pick his brains up from off the floor. Bucky meanders over eating a cupcake with red white and blue bleeding together and melting onto his fingers because him and Steve obviously never waited to let them cool.

“You look like you’re having a heart attack.” 

“He licked my face.”

“Oh, you’re hiding a boner.”

“Not the point, didn’t ya see any of it?”

Bucky shrugged, “I was trying to convince Rogers to let me put icing _somewhere_.” At the sound of his name and the subject of conversation, as well as Bucky trying to so something obscene with his tongue and fingers, Steve blushed at his station trying to act like he didn’t hear anything.

“You’re both fuckin’ disgustin’.” 

Jack came back to sit down and Bucky was immediately wiggling his brows at him, “You licking Brock’s face now?”

That nervous blush came back and really, he was gonna get whiplash with the mood swings Rollins had.

“Yeah I know, I don’t know what happened, I was out of line. I’m sorry.” 

A snort escaped from Barnes and Brock knew, he just _knew_.

“He’d like it better if you licked him a little _lower_.”

“You can fuck off now.” Brock grit out.

Bucky only smirked, waving his fingers in a little wave as he strolled back towards his boyfriend.

All Brock could really do was give Jack a shrug and busy himself on his phone because he really didn’t know what else to do.

 

“Maybe he’s a vampire, that’s why he’s always slobbering on your neck.”

Brock’s immediately giving Bucky a pointed look because he’s the only one that would have informed Wilson so quickly of what’s going on considering the guy got to miss half his classes for some family thing and Brock only makes a dismissive snort, leafing through one of the comic books sitting on the floor in Bucky’s room.

Sam only continues, thinking about it, “That would be cool though, your new boyfriend being one. He’d be like a special secret weapon against ghosts.”

Bucky lifted his head, “I’m pretty sure vampires can’t fight ghosts.”

“He ain’t no vampire Wilson, how’s he eatin’ an’ standin’ in the sun you halfwit.” Brock lowered his voice a few notches, “Ain’t my boyfriend either.”

“Not with that attitude he’s not.” The brunette shot back, not looking up from his own issue.

He could only scowl.

“How’s he not asked you out yet? I thought you said he finally told you he liked you.” Bucky mumbled, head stuck under the bed to pull out a stuffed backpack.

He shrugged back, “He did tell me, think he’s waitin’.”

“For..?”

“Because I’m supposta know what the fuck he’s waitin’ for? He’s a walkin’ mood swing from one thing to another where he’s bein’ cute and then he looks at me like he wants to strangle me.”

“ _Cute_? Rumlow you’re in too deep.”

“Shuddap Wilson.”

Bucky pulled out a few walkie talkies, turning the short dials and checking the battery life before he handed a couple out and shrugged. The bedroom door opened and Steve stepped through already wearing his own backpack, “Are we ready to go? Tony’s got this new gadget I’m excited to try out tonight!” 

“Not so fucking loud, I don’t need my parents hearing!” Bucky hissed, holding out another radio.

Every three or so weeks they had a thing. Ghost hunting and debunking urban legends. Sometimes nothing happened, sometimes they were so freaked or startled they cut out early. Generally they spent time around the run down houses and places in the thick wooded area behind the cemetery to investigate reported stories and rumors. Bruce worked in the school library and was an expert at digging up information about yarns and news reports from back when. It started as a once in a while curiosity and evolved into some stupid ghost episode thing that Stark filmed and edited to put on their website. It was just a thing. It was stupid but Brock liked it, it was something different.

They all split up into pairs at a meeting spot in the woods, flashlight apps on phones and cameras recording. 

Natasha walked ahead of him, a hand on her hip and pointing a camera but not really looking through it, only roaming through the trees with no care in the world. He really wondered why she even agreed to come along, she didn’t even believe in ghosts and yet the moment she found out what they were all up to she was interested in joining their little team.

“If I go left and look down this trail where those rocks lead to that creek will you be okay going further inside to check out the broken down hobo shack?”

Brock snorted, “This ain’t my first time darlin’, ‘sides it ain’t a shack no more since it was burned down.”

She flashed him a smirk knowing his first time comment was loaded with way too many comments and he turned and started moving before she could poke him with anything further. 

A few minutes in, Brock was surrounded by thick growth and a biking trail that was beginning to thin. He kept alert to anything, attaching his phone light to his shoulder strap and filming while sweeping his EMF reader before logs and too many shifting leaves. The remnants of the shack was still there, hollowed and burnt out, a shell of itself. He looked around it, shining the light about and rolling his eyes at stupid graffiti tags around some boulders nearby.

His radio crackled off his hip, “So how’s everything out in the woods by the Ritz? Rogers and I are getting some activity over by the graveyard, over.”

Tapping the plastic cover to his meter with a finger, the dial seated itself comfortably at zero with Brock furrowing his brows at it before he replied back, “Nothing by the shack, about to turn around and meet up with Romanoff.”

After a few seconds passed, “..Did you forget to say ‘over’ Rumlow?”

“I swear to God Stark if you start that crap again I’m gonna kick you in the- ”

There was a noise. It was barely audible, the sound of something brushing past a tree.

It was enough to stop Brock’s words mid sentence, he shined the light in that direction but nothing was there though he stared at a few leaves glistening wet from the light and on closer inspection saw that it was actually blood.

“What the fuck?"

His radio went off again, “Brock, you okay?”

This time Bucky was on it and Brock couldn’t take his eyes off the fresh stains though if movies taught him anything it was that it was definitely time to get a move on, “Yeah, ‘m fine just thought I heard somethin’.” 

Quickly turning around he was only stilled when he swore he saw eyes reflecting in the bushes to the right, something big shadowing the space. He flashed his phone in that area but there was nothing. The low sound of a growl by his left ear surprised him, turning the beam of light only to get knocked over onto his stomach from something large and powerful, sending his things out of his hands and across the ground somewhere.

Paws were the first things he saw before him, big paws with sharp claws and dark fur. It was like a scene out of a damn horror movie, a deep threatening rumble of a growl so close to his face he could feel a huff of its smelly hot breath against his forehead. He looked up face to face with something he was sure should exist. It sniffed him with it’s yellowish green eyes locked on, he was too paralyzed to get up and he could hear himself breathing heavily, fingers twitching in the dirt and it seemed to only anger the wolf, _wolf? Seemed like a wolf but it was HUGE_ , stepping closer bearing teeth. Teeth that were fangy and sharp and glistening with saliva and even in the dark Brock could definitely smell the blood now and the scent of raw flesh.

“Oh fuck, I’m fuckin’ dead.”

The wolf would have bitten into his face the second he tried to get up and he knew it. Its nostrils flared and leaned in with cold wet nose and all Rumlow did was tense when it skimmed across his cheek.

“Look..wolf. Maybe I look good to eat but I would probably taste like shit you know? I eat a lotta crap like twinkies and chips, Buck says my ass is so fat it’s gonna need it’s own area code soon, he’s a dick but he’s kinda right-”

Its mouth opened and sharp jagged teeth grazed over his cheek, growling _louder_ at him. 

“ -God I’m so fuckin’ dead..gonna die a goddamn virgin never gonna live it down at my own damn funeral..”

He drew in a deep lungful of air and closed his eyes, grimacing as he braced for his impending death as well as the pain that was going to come in. Nose sniffed into his hair and there was a faint whine by his ear from it seconds before a warm rough tongue rolled out and licked across his face, a grossed out sound slipping out past his lips that he couldn’t help. He didn’t hear or feel anything after that, waiting a couple of minutes before he opened his eyes only to find he was alone once again.

He didn’t want to move for a few minutes just in case it came back and it wasn’t until the radio crackled, echoing around him that he finally did get up. 

“Brock? Where the hell are you? I swear if you’re sleeping in a tree or something..”

His shoulder hurt like a bitch, t-shirt sticking against his skin where he was sure he was scratched hard enough that it broke skin. Groaning into the radio, he heaved himself up to stand, “I ain’t sleepin’. Somethin’ knocked me down, it’s gone. Probably someone’s stupid ass dog loose around ‘ere.”

Finding Natasha waiting for him and sitting on a log where they split up, she frowned crinkling her nose the closer he got, “You stink.”

“Like I said, someone’s stupid ass dog came outta nowhere.”

When they all met up again Brock found that the group had a resounding lack of anything for the night. Tony picking up some energy and recordings him and Sam were going to analyze with Bruce and Brock just wanted to take a damn shower. He split right after ditching Bucky’s to head home, briskly walking when he felt eyes following him all the way. By the time he got inside, he still couldn’t shake it, stripping down to his boxers to look himself over. Scratch marks ran over his shoulder but they were clotted up already, at the end of it he didn’t want a damn shower anymore, he just wanted to get some sleep and forget the whole night even happened.

 

Saturday rolled in and it was raining all day, winds picking up as it became night; lights flickered around and made threats to go out. He’s so distracted with his game he doesn’t notice Jack climbing outside his house until the window’s pushed open and a leg swings over with his head peeking inside looking sheepish, “I got bored at home, can I..hang out?”

All Brock can do is pause his game and nod a few times heading out into the hall closet for a towel and to check where his parents are at. Jack’s in the middle of his room dripping _wet_ against the dark carpet and boy isn’t that the hottest thing he’s ever seen. So much so he’s not looking and ends up tripping over his controller cord. He tries to catch himself and he doesn’t even realize Jack’s got him in the blink of an eye; Brock can’t stop the way his heartbeat spikes and the hands around his arms tighten like Jack could sense it.

He swore Jack’s eyes were more green but they have a weird yellow to them right now that looked like he had seen them before somewhere, maybe in someone else’s eyes and he’s completely frozen even though his mouth really tried to move because he wants, _needs_..

Except, before he can even say anything he looks at the rest of Rollins face and he abruptly looks irritated, maybe a little disappointed. He steadies himself and watches palms begin roaming across his arms and now Jack’s scowling as he’s, from what Brock could tell, blindly feeling him out for something.

“You stink.”

And _that_ definitely wasn’t what Brock expected to hear.

“Well fuck you too.”

Jack quickly shook his head, lifting Brock’s chin as he struggled a little in annoyance against the hold but a small irritated growl from Rollins caused him to suddenly stop his fussing, stubbornly letting him do as he pleased with an exaggerated glare. He felt him step up closer and crowd him in, hands roaming through his hair and against the back of his neck like he was wiping him down.

“Rollins, what the hell are you doin’?”

“You have a scent uh..some girl’s perfume on you. I don’t like it.”

Was that it?

“Uh yeah, I haven’t showered yet and Nat was wearin’ some new perfume last night. Guess it rubbed up all over me when we were together.”

Rollins stood up straighter, stepping back like he just burnt himself, a flash of hurt on his face, “Last night? Together?”

Staring at Jack for a long moment, the pieces suddenly clicked and he couldn’t help the surprised smirk spread across his face, “Holy shit. You’re jealous of lil ol’ Natty. That’s rich!” 

Jack was just stared while he laughed a little at how ridiculous the idea was. All Jack did was stand there looking dead serious and it didn’t take very long for him to quiet down just by the intensity of Rollins' incomprehensible stare.

He couldn’t believe how affected he was over the idea, only eyeing him like he had said an offensive joke. 

“Do you really think I would be messing around with one of my _friends_ while the hot new guy is checkin’ me out?”

Whatever was on Jack’s face suddenly drained away, blinking a few times, “You think I’m hot?”

Brock swore to God. 

He closed his eyes in frustration, raking a hand over his face, “I know we’re not really talkin’ a lot bout us here but _holy shit_ Rawls, just holy shit!”

“You think I’m hot..” Jack only muttered like he was ignoring him which he probably was, people did that to him a lot when he was trying to point out the obvious.

He dropped his hand when he felt that warmth radiate in front of him, that body heat that Rollins always possessed that Brock really liked. He hadn’t even heard him shift in, so close to him and well past his personal space. His heartbeat picked up and his palms began feeling clammy.

“Brock..” 

And if _that_ didn’t just turn him right the fuck on. 

“Can I touch you?”

Brock opened his eyes, “Oh, _now_ you’re asking? What’s gotten- ”

Jack was ignoring him again, eyes dark and were they glowing? He didn’t much care, watching them staring fixated on his lips and he couldn’t deal with this stupid game anymore. Carefully he reached his hands up, sliding them up his chest.

“Kiss me.”

“Brock," His eyes are darting across his face, that panic swelling up in him, “I _can’t_." 

Jack swallows and all Brock can do is stare at his mouth like he’s staring at the invisible words, lips parted just slightly his heart beating just a little faster. His palm fits against the faint fuzz of Rollins’ cheek and watches him tilt his head into it and momentarily close his eyes, nose nuzzling the inside of his wrist sending a thrill up his spine and his pulse into overdrive.

“ _Please_.”

There’s a noise Jack makes in his throat like he’s hurting but he pulls him closer and he can feel the hot rush of his breath before Jack’s leaning forward and presses their lips together, delicate and careful. Brock’s blanked out suddenly and it takes him a few seconds before he closes his eyes and kisses Jack back hungrily before Rollins can make the mistake of thinking he made the wrong choice again.

He let’s out a low moan into their kiss feeling Jack’s tongue slipping past his lips, his own arms wrapping around shoulders and he can feel the rain water off Jack seeping into his clothing, the chill prickling his skin. One of Rollins’ hands tangle into his hair tightening into it and then quickly loosening, the both of them only stopping when they have to force themselves to breathe, foreheads pressed together and sharing air. 

That same butchered whine escapes from Jack’s throat, holding him close with fingers clutched at his sides, hot breath against his cheek, “Can’t hurt you..”

“You won’t. Believe me, shit Rollins..”

“..You don’t understand.”

He’s ignoring him because he doesn’t much care right now, scrambling to get just enough air to pull Jack into another kiss, his palms roving all across his chest and biting down on his lip as he feels out hard nipples through his dampened shirt. 

Jack’s mood shifts a little if his grunts are anything to go by and has a better idea than just touching and kissing. Brock lets himself get crowded in and backs up until his legs hit the bed and he’s crashing against it feet still planted to the floor. He’s lost in a blur of Jack manhandling him, roughly grabbing his legs to get them up faster and pushing him up against the mattress so he’s completely laid out now and his living wet dream is crawling over him and straddling his thighs and _Holy Lord_. 

He has no idea what’s going on but Jack can do whatever he likes, watching his head dip down leaning in close to sniff at the side of his head. They’re watching each other and Brock realizes he’s asking for more permission, his head’s nodding before anything stops him. Jack proceeds to nuzzle him, large hands gripping his hips through jeans leaving Brock breathless and stunned. He can feel teeth drag over skin grazing along his throat and the heavy drag in of breaths Jack’s taking as he’s inhaling and Brock can’t help the way he moans out for more of anything, Rollins’ fingers biting painfully through fabric. His own hands were roving wherever they could go, brushing through damp hair and skirting across broad shoulders, gripping at firm biceps. 

“Brock, _Brock_..I can’t control- , you smell so fucking _good_ , like that first day..”

Brock was sure he was losing his marbles, frantic to keep Jack on top of him and take anything he wanted to give him, pawing through his shirt and keening to Jack’s litany of rambling while growling low and dirty in his ear and sliding elbows along sheets so he was pressed against him and pinning him down like he was trapped prey. 

Brock could hear the tips of Rollins’ sneakers drag across the mattress like he was trying to dig in harder and bury himself _inside_. He gasped out, not even realizing what this could possibly be doing to Jack until he could feel him throbbing and rock hard and fuck was Brock not letting him out of this any time soon if he could help it, finding his hands roaming down his back and grabbing hard at Jack’s ass, an absent grunt of approval slipping out by his ear.

Jack was still against his neck, rubbing himself with his _whole entire body_ while he licked and bit and _sucked_ all along his skin. He shouldn’t be okay with this. His parents just saw him blemish free but - _oh fuck he needs to do that thing with his teeth again_ \- everything’s out the window already. All he can hear is his own panting and Jack’s loud feral growls, he pushed his flattened palms down harder against the back of Rollins’ jeans so he could shamelessly grind against the friction. 

“Need fuckin’ _more_ Jack, _c’mon_ \- ”

His breathing hitched to teeth biting harder into his skin sparking a sharp jolt of pain through his entire body and shooting straight down to his already aching cock. Hot wet tongue roved over the flushed bruised spots of skin and Brock’s barely able to realize he’s whimpering for him pathetically with no way of stopping himself. 

He hadn’t even realized Jack shifted just so he could slot his thigh between his legs and Brock’s body responds to it before he has the gears to pick up on it, chasing the friction and he’s already so fucking hard while teeth tug at his earlobe and the guy he’s been having sex dreams about since the day he laid eyes on him is pinning him down and bruising his hips while he ruts against him. Jack’s warmth envelopes over him and the second he hears his name slip out in a desperate whine from Jack’s lips he feels himself stiffen and he’s cumming in his jeans whether he wanted to or not. 

As he’s floating on that perfect feeling of bliss and vulnerability, Jack’s trailing his nose along his throat eventually progressing to rubbing his face on his sweat slicked skin from the hollow at the base of his neck to his jaw like a content oversized cat. He was also sure that Jack was purring but his brain didn’t really feel like analyzing that right now, all he could really do was lay there still under him and feel the affection wash over every inch of his body like a warm perfect bath.

“You..didn’t cum..” He attempted to argue in a slur, arms too heavy to move as his fingers twitched to do _something_ helpful.

Jack only shushed him and he felt a kiss press at the corner of his mouth.

It’s nice and Brock’s lost in a daze not minding staying like this if that’s what Rollins wanted, he almost didn’t catch how Jack tensed suddenly and his face grew serious, hands pushing into the mattress to shove himself off the bed.

Brock’s forcing himself to sit up and blink because what the fuck, “Rollins, what the- ”

“Brock!” His dad yells out from what sounds like the stairway before heavy loud steps start and Jack isn’t looking at him anymore, backing up towards the window with his eyes fixated on the door. 

Brock scrambles to said door to buy time, limbs heavy and awkward. He doesn’t even want to think about how gross he feels trying to move in tacky boxers to stop his dad from catching Jack. He opens it a crack when his dad starts knocking on it and it’s pushed open before he can really hold it back. He’s helpless to watch him walk past him to the window, looking outside. Jack’s nowhere in sight and all Brock can do is take a second to breathe as well as tug his blanket around his entire body since he already looked like he was half awake.

“Mrs. Alderson said she saw someone sneaking into your room a few minutes ago.”

Brock flashes his most innocent face which is probably useless, shrugging as he looked around, catching how messed up his hair looked which was a bonus right now, “Ain’t no one here from what I know, been fallin’ asleep from playin’ video games.” 

He gets another look and his father closes the window and locks it, “No friends after nine.”

Frowning back, he rolls his eyes stubbornly, “Mrs. Alderson’s a nosy ol’ biddy.” 

He sees his dad trying not to laugh, heading out to leave, “I mean it Brock.” The door promptly closes behind him.

Jack doesn’t come back again until a few hours later when Brock’s taken a shower and changed with a thick nest of blankets around himself after he’s found a Tarantino marathon on TV. His window’s left open once his parents leave to go to some party and he raises his head to the sound of wet sneakers again. 

“Didn’t know if you were comin’ back.”

“Me neither.”

“How’d you run outta here so fast?”

He had to admit that was spy movie shit, it was awesome.

Jack crinkled his brows, a stupid look on his face as he thought, “Uh, I did track team, hurdle jumping. All that stuff at my old school.”

Brock made a noise like he understood, so Jack moved to sit on the floor before his bed and Brock threw the towel he had gotten him earlier at his head on top of some sweats, a t-shirt and a pair of boxers he hadn’t used before. He knew the pant legs would be a little short on him but it would be warm. 

What he didn’t expect was to see Jack get up and turn his back on him and then proceed to strip down like Brock wasn’t even sitting there. He tried his hardest to stare at the screen but there was no stopping his eyes from roaming down the long smooth toned plane of Rollins’ body, lingering for way too long on the curve of his ass knowing exactly how it felt at least through clothing and as Jack gathered the fabric of the new t-shirt to pull it on over he paused for a second and tilted his head so his ear was turned towards his direction. 

Brock felt his face flush, snapping his eyes back to the movie, shifting a little under his covers and pressing the heel of his hand between his legs to will away the discomfort building there because that’s all he needed since he already creamed his pants like a needy slut the second Jack crawled on top of him. God, Jack didn’t even cum, it was a little embarrassing. His friend proceeded to go back to what he was doing and Brock silently tried to keep his breathing still.

Watching him sit back down on the floor Brock made an irritated noise and tugged him onto the bed, firmly gripping his arm as Rollins looked back at him in confusion. 

“You break into my room..more than once I may add, you put your tongue in my mouth and you make me cum in my pants but you ain’t gonna sit beside me on my bed. You got some fucked up priorities Rollins.”

Jack doesn’t say a word and only follows to sit himself down beside him while Brock does his best to hide a small smile.

They were good, watching a movie and sitting still, it was okay until Brock was laughing at something related to the buckets of fake blood and he leaned in too close like a lamb going into the slaughter. Jack followed like he was instinctively mirroring him and they fell into it together. Mouths leapt at each other and they were kissing each other stupid. His wrists got pinned back before he knew it happened and Jack was climbing over on top of him, it was wild and hungry and Brock just wanted more of him like this. 

It was great, they could definitely go all the way, Brock _wanted_ to go all the way with Jack, he didn’t really know _why_ he was without question ready for him. 

Jack snapped his head back abruptly, their face inches from each other and Brock could finally feel the warm throb of his lips, the perfect weight that pressed at his wrists. 

“Shit, this is why I didn’t want to be in your bed..”

“Huh?” Brock blinked a few times, confused and breathless. “Whadda ya mean? I _like_ it. I thought I was pretty fuckin’ clear how much I want it.”

Shaking his head, he attempted to climb off him and Brock grabbed his forearms as tightly as he could, “No, no stop. Yer fine, I- I like when ya do that creepy thing. I guess I shouldn’t call it creepy but I like it. No one’s paid attention to me like you do, ya make it nice to just cuddle or anythin’. Usually guys just wanna get jerked off or somethin’ quick for themselves- ”

His words froze in his throat when Jack instinctively let out an angry growl that sounded way too inhuman to be normal, letting it pass though, his heart seemed to go faster thinking about the way it _seemed_ like he was annoyed people did that to him which made his stomach feel weird. 

“I ain’t ever been around someone who..I don’t fuckin’ even know what ya do. You’re just ‘round Rollins, like yer jus for me.”

Jack eased back in and curled up around him, body heat familiar and safe in Brock’s mind. They stayed like that, wrapped up in arms and staring at each other for a while.

“Ya..wanna make out again?"

Jack tugged the blanket over their heads, nodding as Brock felt a hand tuck along behind his ear and tilt his head up, lips already parting the second Jack’s lips found his.

 

They go like that, for a good week or two, never once talking about if they were boyfriends or not. It didn’t matter much to Brock because Jack made it clear to everyone else at school how off the table Brock was. He was pretty okay with a tall, brooding, slightly protective, sniffing kink, _amazing with his hands and mouth_ friend with benefits who snuck into his second floor bedroom in the middle of the night to mess around or sometimes just to sleep. 

He really liked the way Jack always wanted to touch him, especially when they were separated because of different classes. The second he was done, there was no point wondering where Jack was because he was just _there_ waiting for him and making some comment about how he smelled like other people. Brock had gotten used to Jack’s insanely sensitive nose and the way he was cuddling and petting him every time they were together again. It was a constant thing he didn’t mind and it was nice to be always wanted. 

Brock still kept making his jokes about Jack being a creeper and the guy never seemed to mind, he’s still not sure about how he doesn’t notice the few times he can’t catch his zzz’s and spends it with his hand boldly stroking Jack’s hair while watching how deeply he sleeps. If Jack does know, he doesn’t throw the creep term back at him and Brock can’t help the way there’s this growing feeling of wanting Jack to be with him forever because he makes everything better.

 

It’s the strange sensation of something being different that wakes him up followed by a small simple noise. He’s not as guarded as he once was, not anymore, and before he can even open his eyes he knows who it is as routine will always assure him. No one else does it, namely because if his friends sneak in, it's in the middle of the day; the sound of sneakers barely shuffling against the sill of the window or at the foot of it and now that he has a little experience with this, he’s almost sure that Jack does that on purpose like it’s a greeting or something so Brock doesn’t shit himself, the alert tugging him away from sleep. He had only been out for a few hours, controller bumping against his hand as he moved it away from where it rested to rub his eyes. This time though the energy feels different leaving something in him to wonder.

He rolled over and squinted past him to the clear skies and the light of half a moon shining in over the tall figure in baggy jeans and a long striped t-shirt under a grey open zip up watching him as he sat perched there in silence.

“Jack..this weird creeper window thin’ is fucked up when I’m having a good dream.” 

He watched with bleary eyes as Jack only stood and stepped forward then stopped in hesitation, turning to close the window then he paused again in his direction, ramrod straight and there was something sad in his eyes.

Pulling himself up, Brock took a few seconds to sit at the edge of his bed, rubbing his eyes again, “Jack?”

There was only silence and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He opened his mouth to repeat himself and make a few more choice gripes about waking a guy up when Jack’s taking another careful step forward towards him again.

“I’ve been out running, but I can’t relax. Feel weird, anxious.” His breathing was low and harsh, shrugging helplessly, “Can I..sleep on your floor?”

Rolling his eyes in response, Brock had no idea why the guy always went into these random bouts to make up an excuse or two for getting into his bed. He reached over and grabbed Rollins’ hand leading him over to climb in. It was endearing to see wary green eyes every time like he was worried he would do something wrong and Brock was always humored by it. It was stupidly cute.

“You’re an idiot.”

A small short snort slipped out of Jack, kicking off his shoes before he slid under the blankets and laid on his side looking at him. Brock mirrored his position and they both stared at each other in silence. He finally reached over to pet Jack’s face watching brows ride up a little as he shifted closer and Brock closed in the space feeling arms wrap around his waist and Jack’s face press against his neck inhaling his scent like he always did. 

Brock couldn’t help the soft sound spill out, Jack snuffling along his skin and heated breath washing down his collarbone. Curious to know why he had such a fetish for smelling him, Brock pressed his hands up to Jack’s chest to push him back a little and give them space. The slightly startled look Jack had was stopped with a little peck on his lips.

“Just wanna see somethin’..”

Jack only swallowed thickly and Brock leaned forward pressing his nose in just under Jack’s ear, his hands sliding up to rest at shoulders carefully. He slowly breathed in, taking in the smell of pine and fresh rain. He breathed out and then breathed him in again, fingers curving up at the sides of his neck. He let the edge of his nose trace along the lobe of Jack’s ear and off his jaw pausing occasionally to take him in again. He could feel Jack’s pulse rise under the tips of his fingers, nuzzling him along the curve of his adams apple, planting a light lazy kiss before he moved to the juncture of Rollins’ neck and shoulder. 

He felt Jack shiver under the movements, feeling the larger frame curling against him and clutching tight to his body. Brock wasn’t sure how he knew or why but he could feel how much Jack wanted the comfort and how he seemed to be scared to ask for it; he wanted to give it to him as much as he could and just as easily like the comfort he gave to him. 

Brock licked up Jack's throat from his collarbone all the way to the base of his ear causing a deep low purr to erupt from Rollins’ chest. Fingers bit tighter into Brock’s skin through his t-shirt and he couldn’t help smiling at the way Jack relaxed into him, pressing his forehead into his shoulder. 

“I have no idea what you do to me Brock..”

They bundle in together, safe in each others arms and Brock can’t help feel the same way about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so confident I would get this completed before 2017 and then the moment I put out chapter 1 my momentum dropped like a brick. I kept working on it but my main story took over, that being said I don't know when three will come out so bear with me. <3

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Phantogram's _Run Run Blood_
> 
> I don't know much about werewolves so don't murder me.


End file.
